FILL glee kink meme: She's A Giver
by Ladyfun
Summary: Santana's needs help. Rachel answers the call to arms... er, lips . !lactationkink Small deviation into the bizarre world of Shelby, Quinn, and a whole bunch of nuts in that fruit basket.
1. Chapter 1

Fill - Title - Characters/Pairings - Spoilers - Warnings/Triggers - Kinks

**Fill: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding **_(Anonymous)_ 2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC) Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

Title: She's a Giver…

Author: Ladyfun9

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

I don't own glee, characters, or lactation in general.

**Chapter 1. The Problem**

For some reason, Santana had allowed herself to house a fetus…in her body…for nine months! Now, two weeks post partum, as she tried to get her body back into fighting shape, she tried to remind herself exactly why.

Oh yes…$25,000. That was why.

An upwardly mobile, overly successful, highly strung, and very rich (and very infertile) couple had contracted her to provide an egg and a uterus to "give life" to their perceived incomplete life. She had been screened in by her SAT score and her Latina roots (the infertile mother was from Ecuador) and boom! Her first year at Columbia was now paid for. She no longer had to have the ugly conversation of "Ohio State" with her parents anymore.

There was one problem, however. Apparently, Santana is pretty damn good at whatever she sets her mind to…including motherhood. Her body just wouldn't fucking shut off.

She's tried it all. Binding. Caffeine. Decongestants. NOTHING is doing much to stem the flow of breastmilk that fills her enlarged breasts, daily.

She has found herself in the unfortunate position of having to pump off a little every day to relieve her engorgement. However, she doesn't want to pump _too_ much, for fear of increasing her supply. "_Fuck_", she thought, as she hooked up the suction cups to her swollen breasts yet again, "_I'm not a fucking chemist."_

At the glee welcome back happy hour at Puck's house, she tells Brittany in confidence of her dilemma.

Puck joked to her that she should offer double or nothing to her surrogacy parents to provide bovine services on a daily basis, but she should keep it up because her tits look fine! To which she responded by delivering a quick knee to his reproductive organs.

"Fuck, Lopez, lighten up. Jesus. Paid services are the only way you're getting pregnant! Who the fuck would want to be around you?"

"Oh, did I hurt you? Hm. Sorry. Hormones." She made as to lunge towards him a second time, and he darted off.

She set her face grimly and turned to find the bar. Brittany had disappeared. Santana sighed. "Whatever." She blew.

Her nearly 10 months of sobriety during pregnancy had left her…thirsty. And it also gave her a chance to notice what idiots most of the McKinley students actively were…God, was she going to be glad to get out of here.

She finally found her beloved Sam Adams and got ready to hoist it to her lips, when…

"_Stop!"_

A small hand darted up and covered the opening of her bottle. Santana opened her eyes to see who the hell was coming between her and her Sam.

"BERRY? _What the fuck_?"

Rachel cleared her throat nervously.

"I overheard…your predicament. And actually, hops are infamous in increasing your…um…"

Santana raised her eyebrows.

"…Your letdown."

"Well, midget, pray tell …how did you become a lactation consultant?"

She blushed.

"Well, I …um."

"Spit it out. I'm aging overnight."

"I dated someone this summer who was, shall we say, very _knowledgeable_ in this area."

Santana digested this information. Treasure trail? On the lactation trail?

Suddenly it seemed really, really warm in Puck's basement.

"Judging by your ample cleavage, Santana, I think you probably don't want to add to your problem."

Rachel's' eyes were immodestly fixed on the opening of Santana's blouse…and she was sweating….

Santana paused. "Yes, I am actually feeling a little…uncomfortable."

"Full?"

"Yes."

"Santana, When did you last pump?"Rachel said, with a huskiness in her voice.

"Er, um. Like 12 hours ago."

"Twelve hours ago? Oh no, no! Come on." She grabbed Santana's wrist, and pulled her upstairs. For some reason, Santana's body was complying with the hobbit's abduction. She took a swig of beer as they found an unused room. With a lock.

Rachel thrust her in, and dimmed the lights. Her eyes were black. Who was this girl?

She locked the door, and turned to the dumbfounded Santana.

"Take off your top."

"What?"

"Do it. You need relief. I'm here to help."

Santana slowly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her body. Rachel had crossed the room and was kneeling against her. Her hand reached up and palmed her full right breast.

She squeezed.

Sort of.

Actually, she was making almost a kneading like movement, that felt oddly fantastic. Her breast felt warm under the ministrations and Rachel massaged that warmness, guiding it to the center of her tit, to her tingling nipple. It was getting hard and erect.

Santana watched with amazement as Rachel stroked little white beads of milk to emerge from the tip of her nipple. It felt..good.

But what happened next felt fan-fucking-tastic….

Rachel lowered her mouth onto her breast taking in half of her breast…as she sucked and pulled with her lips, she began to use her tongue to stroke the underside of Santana's nipple, coaxing the milk to let down.

And then, with a gush, it did. Santana gasped at the feeling. She felt like she had been hit with heroin…it was amazing.

Rachel's lips were encircling her whole areola, and her mouth was a vortex of suction, pulling the milk out with just the power of her mouth. And as she began to let down all the way, and milk flowed freely into Rachel's mouth, she thought she might come on the spot. The sound of Rachel swallowing her milk…in her mouth…was fucking intoxicating.

Her hand pressed on the back of Rachel's head, urging her closer.

"Don't fucking stop. Oh my fucking god…suck me. Driink me up…._ohhhhh._"

Rachel looked up, hints of milk around the corners of her mouth.

_Santana's milk._

God, that was hot.

"I won't stop, Santana, till you're completely empty, and your needy demanding breasts are completely empty and you can be left alone… after all, I'm a giver."

And with that, she put her mouth around her nipples for the second time that day.

She paused and looked up at the almost drunken Santana. "If your good, Ms. Lopez, and let me drain you completely, I'll help you with your other problem."

"What other problem?"

"The wetness I feel between your legs."

Well folks, that the end of Ch 1. I feel this prompt was written for ME. I hope this touched on your interest. Please check out Drink Me Up, Pezberry on ! Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Fill - Title - Characters/Pairings - Spoilers - Warnings/Triggers - Kinks

**Fill: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**_(Anonymous)_ 2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC) Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

Title: She's a Giver…

Author: Ladyfun9

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

I don't own glee, characters, or lactation in general.

**Chapter 2. No excuses. Only reasons.**

Damn that midget.

Naturally, like every-fucking-thing else, Berry was good at this too, apparantely.

Because here it was, a full week later almost, and her nipples would still twinge with fire thinking of her lips—Berry's lips, for God's sakes- on them…

She was Santana Fucking Lopez!. Santana F. Lopez does not pine for midgets. Hobbits. Man-Handsderlers. Nor any other middle earth dwellers.

She sighed, and massaged her aroused, peaked nipple as she closed her eyes and imagined those soft, full lips again…

She quickly stood up as she heard footsteps entering the 2nd floor restroom.

"Sanny!" Squealed Brit.

Thank Sweet Jesus.

"Are you in here again? Didn't you pump already?"

"Er…yes. But I have to pump twice before cheerios, you know. Don't want excessive bouncing."

"Oh..okay. But it's lunchtime.."

"Exactly." Santana said, firmly.

Brittany nodded, as though that made complete sense.

"Well, don't be late for math, Sanny. I'll save you a seat."

"Thanks B"

"No prob, S. But you best be getting your pumpage on. Lord Tubbington might take you're seat if you piddle."

A loud _meow!_ protested from the depths of Brittany's backpack.

Santana let out a sigh upon her departure. She braced herself on the edge of the sink and glared at herself in the mirror, willing her mammaries to comply and stop tightening up at the thought of….

"_Rachel fucking Berry_…really? Santana you need to fucking get a grip." She murmured.

A toilet door swung open.

"Well, rather…how about I get a grip,instead? I am a giver, remember?"

Santana muttered curses in Spanish as her eyes rolled to the heavens. Really, could this day get any more horrific?

Rachel sauntered towards her.

Yep, it could get worse. Indeed.

True to her word, Rachel did in fact, get a grip. On Santans's breast. And began kneading it, slowly.

Methodically.

Stroking her.

Santana felt powerless, for the first time in a long time. Because she didn't want her to stop…far from it.

Santana pulled her Cheerio's top over her head.

"Well get to it, Berry. Start Giving."

An almost evil grin spread across Rachel's face.


	3. Chapter 3

Fill - Title - Characters/Pairings - Spoilers - Warnings/Triggers - Kinks

_**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**__(Anonymous)__2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)__Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink_

**Title: She's a Giver…**

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

Perfunctory Disclaimer: I don't own glee, characters, or lactation in general. Not even sure I own my car anymore. But I don't think Ryan Murphy owns that _yet_…just Glee.

**Chapter 3. I've Gone Blind.**

Santana wasn't sure she could see anymore.

Or think.

Or breathe.

_Holy-mother-of-fuckidy-fuck_, whatever Berr–um-_**Rachel**_, was doing with her very talented tongue, was AH-_MAZ_-INGGGG.

Ber- (_Damn it again!,_ thought Santana. _I meant Rachel!)_ would later attribute said "skills" to her "diligent practice" and "years of hard scale work". This led to Santana's unprompted suggestion that _**Rachel **_resume her diligent practicing, scaling the hardwork between Santana's legs.

However, in the present, Santana had nothing but ragged breaths left and little cogent thought. She felt her chest caving in, but Rachels' insistent mouth continued to latch onto her, while her other hand was kneading her, like a pile of unleavened dough.

"_**Harder**_…" gasped Santana.

Rachel's brown eyes flickered up to Santana. A small smile escaped her lips. Knowingly, she repositioned her mouth, as to take the fullest amount of Santana's needy breast into it. She sealed her lips, and then, with a small _pop!_ Rachel sucked harder.

Santana moaned.

She felt the letdown…the sweet letdown. Oh, God, words couldn't describe this. She felt warmpth spreading from the center of her chest, diffusing out her nipples, and into Rachel's waiting mouth as she spilled her sweet milk…Rachel continued to coax it down with her tounge and her strong mouth muscles.

Ms. Lopez fully lost her mind when she heard the small barely audible gulping sounds coming from the petite woman lying on top of her.

"_Más rápido_, Rach. NOW."

Rachel re-doubled her efforts. Harder. _Faster._ She wanted Santana. _All of Santana…_in her mouth. Down her throat.

Rachel was completely draining Sanny's milk supply. Santana felt drunk and loopy, warm and turned-on. She was withering underneath the diva.

"Please…" She begged of Rachel, her voice scratchy with lust.

Somewhere in her deep subconscious, Santana mused that _'I am Santana, and Santana does not wither…wait..oh, my God…oh, fuck me…Ohhhh, yes….'_

Rachel switched breasts and began to suck again. Harder. She began to grind her pelvis, dripping and moist with warm heat, into Santana while her mouth continued its determined efforts.

'_Oh well..fuck that principled idea_,' thought Santana. 'I_t's very last year, anyway…'_

_**XOXO**_

_TBC._

Sorry for the short chapters, I'm a little rusty on this fill as its been eons—even longer than Thoughts In Orange! (Kidding. Sort of. I just love that story, damn it!) However I was very flattered by the reviewers requesting additional closure and figured, hell, I just need to get back on the proverbial horse.

Plot suggestions welcome…(I know, I know. Plot? What plot?)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**__(Anonymous)__2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)__Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink_

**Title: She's a Giver…**

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

Perfunctory Disclaimer: I don't own glee, characters, or lactation in general. Not even sure I own my car anymore. Alas, Glee… Or the remnants of the show-that-shall-remain-nameless-that-sucksthisseason…. Hey. Even I miss Faberry. And meanful use of song placement. Thank god for Lea Michele's thighs. And fanfic. That's all I'm sayin'.

**Chapter 4. Give Until It Hurts.**

Santana was quite sure she had a mini-stroke.

It was the only way to explain the swirl of lights circling her head, tightening in a band, constricting her throat. Beads of sweat rolled down her temple.

"Oh, God, _more_…"

"More, what?"

"More. Just more. _Fuck…"_

Rachel looked up.

"If you can't ask for it, how can I provide it?" She said, teasingly.

Santana looked down between her legs.

"Fucking **finish** me, Ber- _er_, Rachel. Make me come."

"What's the magic word?"

_Is she fucking kidding me?_ Thought Santana, angrily.

_She's not._

"Please. Fucking PLEASE. **Please** get between my legs, NOW, and put your very productive mouth back to where its nee-_ughn_, oh… **God! **God fuck damn,_ Damn_! Yesss…."

Santana involuntarily gripped the back of Rachel's head, forcing her deeper, willing her to go harder with her tounge. Her tounge swirled round the swollen bead that was Santana's tortured clit, and her opening was dripping wet.

Wet, as it always was, after Rachel emptied the breasts above, emptying them of the pendulous load of milk that was always waiting for her…

_How did this happen_? Flitted through Santana's mind, briefly. _When did I become so needy…for Rachel? God damn…when did this ever feel so …good?_

_God, she's good at that._

_And that._

Circling Sanatana's opening purposefully with three fingertips, Rachel grazed the sides until Santana's undulating legs were practically bucking off the toilet seat…

Then she went in for the kill.

Rachel jammed three fingers, knuckle deep, as far as her hand would allow. She pulled out before Santana could exhale, and jammed them back in…

She set a breakneck pace. Not warming up, no preamble.

Just hard, fast …fucking.

Deep into Santana.

She could feel her orgasm building. It was going to be mindblowing. As if she sensed it, Rachel went faster, deeper…

She sucked hard on Santana's clit, biting it with the tips of her teeth. As it bordered on painful, she felt Rachel's fingers plunge deep, and then, tantalizingly …

Curl.

Upward.

Rachel's fingers moved purposefully, feeling that ragged part of inside Santana that made her toes curl, _ forcing_ her to cry out to the empty locker room in unintelligible Spanglish…

Cries of 'more'. Now. _Deeper_. Don't Stop….

Rachel held it, hard, at that spot, until Santana violently shook, and then… was still.

Rachel pulled her fingers out, watching with almost a clinical fascination the fluids collected all around her opening while she pulled out. Rachel gripped Santana tightly, and whispered, "_there now, I've got you…"_ as she wiped away tears…

_What the fuck? __**Tears?**__ What?_ Santana groaned.

At some point, Santana had started crying, with the deep emotion racked from somewhere inside her. Rachel had pulled it out…

After a beat, Rachel spoke.

"You taste … _amazing_."

Santana couldn't speak, or even meet her eyes.

"You taste amazing…everywhere. "

She looked at her, gingerly. The brown eyes, filled deep with lust, looked back at her intently.

"…and I want to taste some more of you…but perhaps, somewhere more…hygienic?"

Santana paused.

"My house is empty." Croaked out Santana. Her voice sounded very far away to her.

"Let's go."

_**XOXO**_

_TBC._

Hey! Thank you for the great comments and encouragement and needed kicks in the ass. Keep it coming!

Plot suggestions STILL welcome…(I know, I know. Plot? What plot?)


	5. Chapter 5

_**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**__(Anonymous)__2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)__Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink_

**Title: She's a Giver…**

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, and certainly NOT the suckfest that is season 4, its characters, or lactation in general. Gawd. I even miss _Faberry_—me, the hardcore Pez-squared-Berry. Thanks to the goddess for Lea Michele's thighs…That's all I'm sayin'. Ends me, now. And thanks for the nice comments. Keep 'em coming.

**Chapter 5. Kiss and Tell**

Santana was positive. She suffered premature death.

There would be a lovely funeral, she was certain of that. Many people would gather, just to say "I told you so… _pussy_ killed her," smirk in a smug, depreciating manner, while _tsk-tsking _above her gravesite…

"_**Santana!"**_

Rachel was slapping her cheek. Repeatedly.

Santana sucked in a breath, redirecting her brain to focus her vacillating pupils on the woman mounted directly above her.

"_Yesss_?" She said, with some uncertainty.

"**God**. I thought I lost you there for a minute!"

"You did. I died."

Rachel rolled her eyes, dramatically.

_Oh NO, she didunt!_ Thought Santana.

However, thinking that emphatically took…_well_…too much effort. And frankly, she was all kinds of spent. Spent.

The midget wore her out. In no uncertain terms.

Santana groaned, utterly exhausted.

Rachel leaned forward, provocatively.

She let her unclothed pelvis slide across the tip of Santana's abused clit, which began hardening quickly. Her hands gripped Santana's shoulders firmly, and she started rubbing their centers up and down.

_How can she be… ready again…already?_ Mused Santana. _She's like a fourteen year old boy with an illegal Viagra stash…_

Santana closed her eyes as she felt the wetness pooling between Rachel's legs…or perhaps her own…who knows? As Rachel pressed on insistently, Santana felt a now familiar tingling grow between her exhausted midsection, which pooled quickly between her legs, and became focal at the point at which her abused nub was rubbing against Rachel…but it seemed to have a mind of its own and was not listening to the logic of Santana's brain reminding it how much attention it had already received this afternoon. ALL afternoon.

Rachel leaned in and breathily murmured her edict into Santana's left ear. "Interested in going another round? I'm a little…_thirsty_."

"I …uh…well. Hmm."

"Hang on, Santana. I'll be right back."

Santana laid back, staring at her ceiling. If her life was a cartoon strip, there would be an empty thought bubble above her head. Rachel had literally fucked the thoughts right out of her head. There was nothing there, nothing-

"Santana!" She was slapping her, again.

"Enough with the slapping, woman!" Santana barked, feebily.

"Drink this."

"What is it?" Santana asked, as she hoisted the beverage to her lips.

"Your dad's Sam Adams beer."

Santana spit it out across the room.

"Very graceful." Rachel said, dryly. She wiped the spit off her left cheek.

"What to the _**fuck**_, Berry? My dad's BEER? Are you trying to get me killed? He rations this shit out like it's a WWII staple!"

"Which is why I filled the bottle BACK up with Pucks' Pabst Blue Ribbon. Half and half."

I marveled at the fact that she was resourceful enough to have a stash with her…and filled it up already.. and then had the realization that-

As though reading my mind, she cut me off.

"The darker lager helps with let down." She said, nonplussed. She mounted me and looked down at my lips. "Keep drinking."

Propped up on one elbow, balancing the midget on my midsection, I chugged down a few more drinks. It wasn't horrible, as far as beer goes. It could have been my imagination, but I could swear that it was making me…that I was beginning to feel… my breasts. Well, they were getting … fuller. _Heavier._ I took a few more drinks.

The way she was staring at my nipples, however, absolutely was making them tingle.

It was as though her eyeballs were wired…to zing! my nipples with every glance. Exhaused as I was, my senses were on high alert. I felt beads of sweat on my forehead. I was starting to feel..

"Feeling warmer, Santana?" Rachel said, knowingly. She didn't even bother at looking at my eyes when she said it.

My nipples began to harden, further.

"Well, yes, nosy. I am a little warm, actually. Probably because I have a little house elf roosting on my lap."

"Its probably," she interrupted, smugly, "_more _likely that your oxytocin letdown is starting to happen. Your brain is signaling your chest that I'm here, and I'm ready to suck on you, again. And suck…_hard_."

_Yup. Definitely sweating._

"…furthermore," she said, as she reclined me backwards, "…your body is anticipating MY mouth on YOUR nipples…and your chest is warming up…so that your brain can signal to let down…"

_That groan was defiantly from me, I think._

Her hands were roaming freely, up and down my sides, everywhere except where I wanted them impatiently to be…I wanted to feel her, massaging my tits. God! I wanted that. I jutted my chest out, impatiently…trying to give her a hint…

The look across her face was almost…carnivorous.

_Odd, for a vegan lover…_I mused.

"…your delicious milk, into my mouth…" she began to flick my nipples, carelessly, with her finger. She looked me straight in the eye as she grabbed hold of my tits, both sides, and began to reverently massage them…bringing the fullness to the tips of my nipples…over and over.

I groaned, and threw my head back, helpless, underneath her.

"…to swallow." She said, emphatically, as she gripped my right tit into a mound, to aim the nipple into her mouth. She placed a firm seal across it, and I felt it…

Her tongue.

Her mouth.

Her jaws, sucking.

Her tongue, massaging the underside of my nipple to urge the milk forward…

And then…

Her suck. Her powerful sucking. That wouldn't let up.

But god, I didn't want it to…I press her head into my tit, willing her to continue…

I heard her swallowing, and murmuring her satisfaction…

My other nipple hardened, and little yellow beads began to dribble out of the tip of my erect nipple…

Rachel's head moved to it in a flash, anticipating my need.

_Sucking.. _

Squeezing.

_Massaging_ my tits…

I thrashed my head left….right…pushing my chest forward, into her mouth. God, her wonderful mouth…the mouth that was on me, sucking me. _**Emptying**_ me…god, it felt like what I think heroin must feel like, on some unknowing level…it was such a rush of warmth…of goodness..to let down, and to fill her mouth. To hear her swallow.

I didn't want her to stop.

And she didn't. She sucked, and sucked, until my nipples were raw and my tits were completely emptied, but still tingling at the core, on alert, with sensitive endings…

And that's when she plunged her fingers into me.

Again. For the what… third? Fourth? ….time that day. I was so wet and wide she was knuckling four fingers in me, and twisting her wrist…and I was writhing underneath her. Helpless.

_I'm pretty sure that I am going to die…again._

However, fate is a funny thing. Right before that final blissful inevitability, I looked at Rachel and the oddest thought flashed into my head.

"_Uhgf_. God, Rach, you're so good…_**so**__ good_!" She was sliding her fingers emphatically, in and out of my slickness…giving me a deliberate twist of her wrist that caused me to buck slightly.

A beat passed.

"Rachel, **who** was the woman who taught you how to be SO good…like this….this past summer?"

Rachel stopped, eyes wide, frozen in her tracks.

_Talk about a pussy block. _

This outta be a good one. That's one thing about life on Lima adjacent …I've learned I can smell drama, a mile away.

I sat up, suddenly alert, with her hand still, while inside of me.

I looked her squarely in the eyes.

"Rachel. _**Who**_ was the woman you put your mouth on…_before_ me?"

_**XOXO**_

_TBC._

Hey! Thank you for the great comments and encouragement and needed kicks in the ass. Keep it coming anaonomous or not, PM or public. I'm easy. Plot suggestions STILL welcome…(I know, I know. Plot? What plot?)


	6. Chapter 6

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lacation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, people.

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Okay, you're turning me into Sally Field on Oscar Night 1980…Holy shit, thank you so much for the comments and PM's. I'm blown away. Sincerely, thank you. I'm always shocked that anyone's reading this besides me.**

XOXO

**Chapter 6. Santana Does What Santana Does Best….**

Santana was positive. She needed to be taken out of the oven, because she was _done_….

"Well, Short Stack? To whom do I owe my gratitude?"

Rachel was a beet-red berry.

The usually vociferously worded response was …absent.

After a beat, Rachel spoke. "Santana, while I can understand your … _um_….natural _curiosity _regarding my past, that past doesn't belong to me entirely."

This roiled Santana.

She didn't like to be denied.

"Was it Tina?"

"_Ohmigod_."

" Puck? Fucking _**Quinn Fabray**_?"

"Get real! Now come over here."

Not even the three hard, quick orgasms that Rachel administered in rapid succession (utilizing a variety of orificia) would serve to dissuade Santana. When they caught their breath, she looked to her naked companion in their post-coital state, and narrowed her eyes.

"_Wait_…you never denied it. Tina. Denial is two thirds of the law."

"WHAT?" Rachel said, shaking her head. "You are _**so**_ going to be a lawyer. "

"Again, not denying."

"_Because_ you're being ridiculous!" Rachel sighed. "Look, my little Jalapeño, while I admit I have had a few dalliances on the Sapphic side, I developed my….interests…from someone you don't even really know. "

She then gave her 'Jalapeño' a firm look.

And if to admonish her with a gesture that clearly indicated _ 'we-are-done-with-this-discussion-and-going-to-sleep'_, Rachel turned to Santana and with a firm gesture, cupped her breast, massaging the nipple forward. She latched onto her breast and began to suck.

Santana's eyes rolled, and a guttural moan came from her mouth.

"_Ohhhh_…**God."**

"Mmmm?"

"Keep…sucking. God…_Please_. Harder."

Rachel did so, and slowly dozed off, as she had a few times before, the milk making her sleepy. Santana gazed down at the diminutive figure, warm mouth latched onto her, sleeping soundly, with a few drops of milk rolling down from the side of her mouth.

No doubt about it, Santana abso-_fucking_-lutely _loved_ that.

She also loved when deep in slumber, Rachel's mouth became primeval in its motor function…sucking without her consciousness. Sometimes, she would suck so hard it would wake up Santana abruptly. It always suprized her how tender she felt, for lack of a better word, gazing down at Rachel in this manner.

_So much for my Gangham Style_, thought Santana. _I like to cuddle…and I like to have Rachel __**nurse**__ me. God. Fucking. Damn._

She then bit her lip sharply.

Lady Lopez had learned to keep the exclamations of _¡mierda santa!_ to a minimum, however, in order to keep Rachel asleep…because if she stayed asleep, well…that usually meant the fun lasted through the night. As fate would have it, Rachel was just as determined in her sleep as in her awake state . Santana quickly realized if she jostled the sleeping diva's lips just so, it would trigger that amazing mouth to suck. And Sanny loved nothing more than the idea she was being sucked raw, all night, asleep or awake..without Rachel's implicit knowledge.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_ She pondered. That was a moment in the distant past that evaporated quickly because of two firm tugs of Rachel's lips, pebbling her nipple.

However, _tonight_ , there was no 'dazed revere' from Santana. Rather, her jaw was firmly set, her body slightly rigid. She gazed down at Rachel intently.

_Who is it?_ She mused. _Who are you hiding from me?_

Santana grumbled_. The only bitches 'round here that are or were preggers were Juno Fabry, of course…which is about as likely as binders of women showing up to join Mitt's harem. _She chucked to herself._ Wait-fucking Coach Sylvester!—Ew. God, I think I threw up in my mouth, defecated, and urinated all at the same time at that thought…just …no. Wait a minute…What about that skanky junior who was also pregnant..what was her name? Nadiene? Nancy? Something dumb like that…think, think!_

She rolled her neck and groaned, as Rachel made one solitary deep suck.

_Well, wait. It doesn't HAVE to be someone lactating, I suppose. Some people just like to suck. But shit, they're missing the fun, the letdown! God damn, Rachel is good at this…_Santana tried to muffle the groan coming from her mouth.

_Tina, what about that little Asian Fast-Tracker? They took some damn trip together…shit. Who has big tits? Mercedes?_

Santana repositioned Rachel's mouth so she was taking in more of her nipple and areola…and Rachel obliged by clamping down in a near vice grip and giving two firm sucks before her mouth went lax.

_Hooowd up, here! Maybe it doesn't HAVE to be a girl, right? I mean, shit, Finn's got Man-Boobs, I've been saying it for three years now! Fuck- what if it is Finn? He is such a fucking woman that I could totally see him getting off on Rachel sucking his tits. What a douche! God, I hate him. Almost as much as that non-Spanish speaking idiot Mr. Shue…Shit, maybe Mr. Shue AND Finn each donated a tit…._

And then, Santana had an idea.

A brilliant, awful idea.

She was grinding her teeth, and in that moment, Santana decided to do what Santana does best…_intimidate _and _spy._

A delicious grin crossed her face. _Of course!_ _She would have a little soiree…get all suspected parties in a room…have the Puckersaurus spike the punch_ and _Laissez le bon temps rouler! _She chucked._ Then, a little "I never" and just like that, the truth is out there…I'll just watch 'em sweat._

As Santana spent a few more hours making methodical mental checklists of whom to invite, what items to bring, and what various CIA-level tactics to employ to extract the truth out of said guests, the real questions that should have been asked, fell silent…

_**Why**_ did she care so much who had been with Rachel before? _**What**_ did that mean- to her-really…and why was this causing her to see red more minutes than not?

It couldn't be that she was falling for the midget, now, could it?

_**XOXO**_

_TBC._


	7. Chapter 7-The Party

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana & Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, **NC-17 (you've been warned)**

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, jealousy, backstabbing, angst, cheerleaders and Pezberry. Its All Good.

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Thanks for the reviews, sincerely—sorry for the delay. Sometimes life is a bitch. Then it slaps you…but I'm so happy Orange finally friggin' updated. So this is to make up for the sex that Orange **_**left out…**_

XOXO

**Chapter 7. The Party.**

_Fuck, fuck, fuckidy fuck. Not one __**fucking **__tingle on my Spidey sense radar. What a disaster! _Thought Santana, grumpily.

She scanned the crowd for any telltale signs of…well, anything, really.

_Now all these fucking morons are languishing their lazy asses in my fucking HOUSE….drunk! And WTF if I'm not in my SOBER extraction agent mode…__**way**__ too alert for these fucking morons …like this fucking idiot throwing up in the wedding goblet of mi mamá . _

Without missing a beat, she slapped the hapless sophomore upside the head. She paused momentarily to see if her somewhat inspired policing had caused a need for her to render the Heimlich in passing as he swallowed his own vomit, choking…_hmm. Nope._ _Onward!_ She glared at him, and he scurried off somewhere that was NOT there.

She had relentlessly followed blind lead after blind lead…Mercedes was out.

Kurt was out.

She was shocked, but couldn't _totally_ rule out Brit-Brit…

_**No**_ to Man-Boobs Hudson and **N **_**to the fucking**_** O **onhis tighty-whitey boy wonder BFF, Mr. Shue-less..

A few choice comments confirmed Berry was not on the Asian train. _**Out**_ to Precious , Tina, Mike, and everyone in the math and physics class.

She chuckled to herself, thinking. _Well, if I'm not going to get anything OUT of Rachel, the least I can do is to get INTO her… And where the fuck__** is**__ Berry? It's easier to keep track of Whitey Bulger and his GUAP._

She paused. Santana did not like that realization…not one little bit.

Instinctively, she headed-upwards, in full-on stealth mode- to the Lopez' 3rd floor bathroom. Santana blushed as she thought of the previous weekend….

**XOXOXO**

Rachel and the Cheerio found themselves not so innocently occupied in that previously referenced 3rd floor bathroom…._on the floor._ Rachel had brought it out of its case, to salaciously use on _Santana's_ breasts, to clamp the cups down _**hard**_ on her nipples.

Her Breast Pump.

The forced suction cups, held down forcefully by Rachel's petite hands, (and really, WTF was Quinn thinking calling her 'manhands?' Nothing manly about those hands…) were creating such an unexpected flood of _goodness _through her body….as the suction pulled her nipples taut and high, Rachel watched them, licking her lips, , as she observed the machine's relentless function to suck and milk the Latina's tits like…well, _cattle_.

In aforementioned bathroom.

Santana, in the present, felt her mouth suddenly go dry. The host felt herself blushing, radiating heat. _Everywhere._

Miss Berry was surprisingly strong from someone so tiny, as she held Santana down, gripping the Medela Symphony® double electric breast cups to her straining tits, while the _swoosh-swoosh_ of the machine played in the background.

Santana abstractly noted that the soothing repetition of the 'swoosh-ing' was such a lovely contrast to the grinding of Rachel's strap-on as it relentlessly burrowed deep into Santana's wet and dripping opening…

"_Uggrhhh, fuck!_ GOD, Santana, I **love **the feeling of …_YOU_. Just…feeling _you_ when I start…_pounding_ your hole…"

Santana wasn't sure, but she had thought in the moment she might have_…purred._

Again,** WTF**?

_Purring?!_

"…while_** pumping**_ you. Initiating your flow, just pulling tiny drops of your milk right out of your tits as I fucking _drill _into you…"

Unnecessarily emphasizing her point, (unnecessary, because, well…she had Santana's _fully_ undivided attention…) Rachel thrusted with _emphatic _motions that Santana hated to admit were _almost painful_. She gritted her teeth, as Rachel's thrusts stretched her so much.

But she couldn't coordinate her thoughts, despite her now forgotten skills at multi-tasking. She couldn't do anything, but feel the deep sucking on her tits, causing a swell of pleasure unparalled in her short life, that was punctuated by the increasingly uncoordinated thrusting of Rachel's pelvis as she was attempting to navigate the fluids and waves coming from between Santana are flailing legs.

"Hold the shields on your tits…now."Growled the diva.

Santana said not a word as she complied with the order, moving them around to gage where the maximum contact was on her red and angry nipples.

Her hands newly liberated, Rachel balanced her weight with her left hand, while continuing to thrust. She snaked her right hand to the swollen bead above the spot where her battered pussy was continuing to open wide for Rachel's ministrations.

"God, I'm sliding in and out of you like a wet Willie. You're so fucking **juicy**, for me, aren't you, Lopez?"

"Nnghf."

Rachel laughed, as she found her destination, finally, with her searching hand.

She began flicking the hardened nub with a deft fury, noting that it had become_ quite_ swollen in the last hour…

_Flick!_

"Oh, fuck! Fuck!"

_Flick!_

"Rachel, _dios me importa!_ Harder!"

_**Flick!**_

"Oh! _Ohhh…"_

Rachel's look hardened. She thrust down harder still, into Santana's sore opening, and rocked hard on her engorged clit. When she felt the burn from Santana's stomach and saw the tell tell clenching of her jaw, heralding her imminent arrival, Rachel squeezed down on the nub…_**hard.**_

"Agh! God.** Damn. **Fuck. Me!"

Santana's saw nothing but blinding light as she clenched her teeth, gritting her jaw. This orgasm was so fucking powerful she thought it was going to make her detonate into a thousand pieces.

"OH God, F_UCK_!"

Santana's legs involuntarily bucked up wildly as she came. She couldn't help her motor control as she felt herself spewing around Rachel's hand, and Rachel's thrusting, and the sound of Rachel's pump whirring away and tanking the core of her breasts.

"FUCK, Rachel, **FUCK**!"

Santana violently finished her orgasm, and as Rachel looked down on her with a decidedly confident air, but beaming with pride.

It was while starting into those deep chocolate orbs, that Santana did the unacceptable…

She _wept._

XOXOXOX

Santana was blushing a little thinking of the weekend past…so lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't notice her first big break though.

Muffled, but unmistakable, voices wafted through the closed outer door of the restroom.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Rachel let out an exasperated huff before she answered with forced politeness.

"_**No**_, I won't be doing that any time soon."

"That's so uncool, Rachel. To … _everyone_ involved..."

Santana could almost see Rachel's folded arms. If she weren't so amped, she'd chuckle a little.

"You can't _omit _things…leaving things out IS a lie. It's a lie of omission, Rachel. And it's still a lie."

"Oh, now_ you're_ the honor police? YOU?" Snorted Rachel.

"Santana is _**my friend,**_ Rachel. I think it's really low of you-

Rachel cut her off. "_Really?_ Really! Y'know, I didn't see you thinking of anyone but yourself, and what YOU wanted when this first all started. _You_ could have helped me THEN. "

Her voice trailed off. Santana closed her eyes and prayed they weren't…_kissing. _After_ an excruciating _few moments that felt like days, Rachel spoke sharply.

"I really don't see how this affects YOU anymore…._**Quinn."**_

Santana felt her stomach drop to her very bottom of her shoes.

God.

_Fucking._

Damn.

_**Quinn.**_

**XOXOXOXOX**

**TBC. **

P.S. My Mama always said, _things aren't always what they seem_…and she might be right.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana & Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, **NC-17 (you've been warned)**

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation, jealousy, backstabbing, angst, cheerleaders and Pezberry. Its All Good.

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Thanks for the reviews, sincerely—sorry for the delay. Sometimes life is a bitch. A real biyach. Then you marry one. Then divorce. You get the drift…**

XOXO

**Chapter 8. Apres.**

Every ounce of free air in Santana's tidal capacity deflated…she burrowed her head against the wall, softly. She felt the slow burn of tears that_ shewasfightinglikehell_ to resist, tinge the corner of her eyes.

_Why Quinn? Why must it always be Quinn? _ She grimaced.

She didn't want to continue to eavesdrop, but the voices were becoming heated. It because impossible to tune it out discreetly.

"_**Really?**_ What did you expect me to do, Rachel? It was my only chance-"

"Damn you Quinn. She was my mother!" Rachel cut her off, bitterly.

"…is."

Rachel huffed. "Yes. Is_**. Is.**_ Fine. Do not correct me on semantics."

"Actually, tense."

"God damn it, you patronizing .._pond scum!"_

'_Pond Scum'? WTF Berry, you should have picked up something by osmosis from me at least and stop watching your afterschool specials. _Thought Santana.

"Oooh. Ouchie. Can't you do better than that? No. No you can't. That's why you let things happen to you, because you let people walk all over you and you don't say shit about it, Berry. That's why YOUR mother walked all over you, and you let my chance to be a mother to Beth evaporate….because of you, and your _weakness_…

_Enough with the bullshit, that's it. No one talks to the hobbit like that 'cept me. _Thought Santana.

She kicked in the bathroom door. Literally. Like all Pam Greer Superfly-like. Rachel screamed. Quinn looked like her botox actually wore off for a second.

"Okay, _**stop**_ with the Bitch-a-cating, Quinn.! What to the serious fuck do you think you're putting on Rachel, here? I know you, Fabry, and I'm pretty sure this involves your selfish ass and how you didn't get yours."

"I'm sorry Santana, this doesn't involve plastic surgery or whoring your body out or even a misdemeanor – so move along." Quinn sneered.

"QUINN! That's really rude…" Rachel's voice trailed off, flabbergasted by Quinn's behavior, and stinging for Santana. Rachel needn't have worried.

Santana leaned into her face. "_Enough_ with the White-Atude, Virgin Mary," snapped Santana, "cause no matter how far that stick grows back up your ass, your hymen doesn't grow back. Last I checked, you were spreading it for a $1.50 wine cooler. I at least got paid, Cash-Money..."

She leveled a glare at Quinn.

"…which I will be using to pay my first year at Harvard or Columbia. How much those loans gonna cost you at that community college of yours in New Haven, Quinn?"

Quinn fixed an equally steely glare back at Santana.

Then, her jaw twitched. Santana with her hawk-eye, notice it immediately. She _flinched._ In front of her Latin advisory, she made a fatal mistake. Quinn expressed…

_Weakness._

Weakness!

A sagacious twitch to the corner of Santana's lips, and the fire in her eyes were the only hints of the imminent maiming that Rachel was certain would befall Quinn.

"Oh, that's right. Your rich daddy, **he's **gonna pay." Santana's voice was silky smooth, like Carmel. "..That is, if he's not in white boy prison for his insider trading, right? And you'll get lots of help from your alcoholic mommy, if she could _just remember_ where she stashed away your college fund…"

"Santana, that's enough." Rachel said, quietly.

"'_Santana, that's enough_'... Well make your fucking mind up, Berry. First Quinn's the biyach. Then when someone finally stands up to Ms. God Squad, you fucking crumble to lick her ass."

Tears were forming in Rachel's eyes now.

"Is that what you did with her, lick her ass? Perhaps I should leave it to you, then."

Quinn spoke up, her voice firm, and in control. "You've got it wrong, Santana. Rachel cares for you, God only knows why. There was nothing between Rachel and I…only…"

"..friendship." Rachel finished.

Santana snorted. "Really. That's what they're calling it these days? "Fuck buddy" was all checked out at the library?"

"Well, in between ass-licking, that is."Deadpanned Rachel.

Quinn snorted.

Santana cocked her head.

"Yes, Santana, that was a joke."

"Well," Santana continued gruffly. "Warn me next time when a Berry joke is coming." Without missing a beat, she turned her entire body to face Quinn head on, and recalibrate her focus. "Sooo….What's with your interest in treasure trail these days, Q-Ball?"

They both ignored Rachel's huffing.

"She did something for me."

"Obvs."

"No, I mean, a favor."

"Uh-huh."

"Look, Santana, you're not going to get it out of either one of us. Rachel is…she's …she's the best person I know. She made a deal with the devil for me, so that I would get the chance to feel like the mother I'll never be…"

Santana furrowed her brow. "Mordant." She said.

Now Quinn looked like she was going to cry. _Fuck,_ thought Santana, _all three of us much be cycling on the same period these days._

"Shelby." Rachel said flatly.

"What?" Santana said blankly.

"The phantom person you've been trying to uncover like a psychotic Nancy Drew? Your person isn't here…they really_ are_ a phantom. Ask Quinn. She can disappear when you least expect it…"

Santana looked back and forth between the two, perplexed. "Who, Quinn? What?"

"Not me, Rice-a-Roni."

"nice," I commented.

"_Well?"_

"Continue. Phantom. Vanishing. Shelby. Rachel licking your ass." Santana gestured as though to continue.

"I never technically licked Quinn's ass." Protested Rachel.

"What did you lick, her breasts?"

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Not hers, _technically_, no."

"Whose then?"

"The phantom." Rachel said, .grimly


	9. Chapter 9

"Do I even want quantification of that statement?" Santana said, in disbelief.

Without a beat, Quinn spoke.

"No. Absolutely not."

Rachel turned red. "I think, under normal circumstances, San, you would have an indelible right to be inquisitive. But these aren't normal circumstance."

But Santana's mind was in a million places. Her soft interior, infantile at best, the side that had shown only briefly these last few weeks with Rachel was quickly walling over. Her defense mechanisms were in overdrive, and if she had a fire alarm, it would be screaming for her to evacuate the building.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Santana Lopez is not one for following direct guidance very effectively.

She stayed in the room, feet firmly planted.

Her eyes narrowed.

They flit from Rachel, red as a beet; to Quinn, the whitest person alive, IHHO, who now had been drained of the last vestige of color she had had. Santana thought to herself,_ Quinn naturally is so damn white, a real pale ale… she's now officially borderline invisible._

Santana snorted to herself in amusement at that thought_. I might trade in Juno for Casper. _

No one spoke. But Rachel watched Santana. And she knew her dark haired beauty wart drifting far, far away.

XOXOXO

She smiled, as she felt the familiar pull at her nipple, and the soft body grazing across her trunk, with the warmth internally quickly filling her chest, making her feel…_drunk._

_Who the hell would have ever thought…this would be me… and Berry! Berrylicious…Berryyum. Hmm, _thought Santana. Musing further, her thoughts drifted. _Lopezberry? Berrysan? Nope. Pezberry? Yes. Me likey. Mmmmm. Pezzzzberry._

Her stream of consciousness was quickly halted by the popping sound of Rachel coming off that nipple and sliding her naked body across Santana's, eliciting a groan from the woman below her, as she re-attached to her other breast and began to latch on. Her quick glance of the slight dripple of white milk at the corner of her mouth undid San.

It was in these moments, these quiet moments, that they learned about each other. Just a glance that belied so much more; the passing touch of a hand acroos the face, pulling bangs out of eyes; and santana's gentle stroking of the nape of Rachel's neck, as her lips tugged against her nipple, sucking. Rachel's eyes would occasionally flutter up at lock with Santana's, but only infrequently.

Generally, they would peacefully attach, but almost independently, to each other. Sanatana could string no coherent thought as the talented mouth and its ministration would force the milk to let down in her breasts—and the rush of the let down, and the feeling of Rachel Berry completely draining her – drinking her, making her body produce milk for her, then swallowing her…

It was too much. It was everything.

XOXOXO

The flash of red lights on the distant corner quickly snapped Santana out of her revere. As she was the only one facing the window, she startled the other two as she forcefully grabbed their wrists.

"Truth and Consequence later. Berry, Casper, come with me..NOW."

She pulled them out the door and through and attic window, down the back trellis.

Rachel let out a wimper.

"My coat, San!"

They could already hear the panicked yells and commotion that happens with sudden mass confusion and the unrealistic attempt of a mass exodus of many drunk people simultaneously.

Fortunately, their alternative egress was still private. "Rachel, keep your white ass moving. Down. Now! You can miss your coat in juvie, OR, you can come get it tomorrow when the Puckermans will have the merry maids over tomorrow to autoclave this wreck after their near arrest for corruption of minors."

Quinn snorted.

"Hey paleface, you don't have a dog in this fight."

"I mean, Sanatana, how do you come UP with this shit on the fly? Do you sit around and hatch this for the "if the riot squad busts in on our underage party , I'll use this quip?"

Santana kicked her head gently to encourage her to climb down faster.

They landed on the rose bush (ouch!) and stared low-crawling across the lawn until they got a safe distance away. They sprinted to the end of the street where they saw six squad cars and blinking lights and hundreds of kids.

Santana finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

"C'mon, pussies. Follow me." he motioned to Rachel and Quinn.

One block over, a familiar blond wearing, oddly enough, a top hat, smiled a dazzling smile.

"Hi gals! Hop in!" Brittany motioned to get into her car, as she reved the engine.

They drove passed the gawking onlookers, staring at the multiple police cars and their neighborhood invasion.

"My goodness, how did you know to get us, Brit?" Rachel mused.

"Oh, RAchie, this isn't my first naked rodeo."

"What?"

"You know the saying." Brit continued.

"Um, Rodeo, you mean?" Quinn cleared her throat.

"What about a rodeo?" She replied.

"The saying is Rod-"

A hand stilled Quinn's arm, and she took the hint. But for once it wasn't Santana. It was Rachel. A newly minted look of understading passed between Rachel and Santana.

Rachel looked at Britanny and smiled sweetly.

"That sounds lovely, Brit."

"Thanks! So, I'm going to drop you and Sanny off at your house, Berrylicious, because frankly, your dads are just never home which is disturbing considering you're not 18 and your having sex with Sanny all the time-"

Rachel felt her face go 50 shades of grey.

She needed have suffered mortification – she was soon off the hook.

"And Quinne, you're coming with me. Something about a lemon press and needing some fresh lemonade."

The car ride was utterly silent on the way home.

XOXOX

"That's like, half the bottle of lube, San."

"Total exaggeration."

"No, not rea-

Rachel's sentence was cut off, mid stream. Santana had corkscrewed in her entire fist into her opening, and was twisting it from side to side, rubbing Rachel's' opening and taking her over and over again, screwing her fist in and out of Rachel's tight opening.

"Oh, God! That's so…good. So –fucking-good! Oh fuck, fuck ..FUCK!"

Santana was now jackhammering into her opening, not really caring if hurt – felt good- she just wanted to own it. To OWN that beautiful pink slit, to feel. To touch. To crush….Rachel's pussy.

Rachel was writhing as she did when Santana fucked her this hard. She let out a piercing shrill scream, and then pop! Her orgasm hit her like a wall. She immediately started to nuzzle into her favorite spot but was met with resistance.

Santana held her face in her hands.

"You know, Rachel, at some point, we're goin' to have to talk about what happened."

Rachel nodded . She then latched on and was sleeping in 5 minutes.

Please read and review.


	10. Chapter 10

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation

**Warning: This chapter gets incesty. **

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Chapter 10. The Prequel **

Santana wasn't complaining.

_Why would I complain_? She mused to herself. _I'm having mind-blowing sex, I'm serviced basically whenever I want, and I get to be … _aroused_…in a completely different manner than I've ever experienced before. In fact, the quiet moments that pass between us, well…_

She racked her brain.

Santana realized, _the moments that Rachel puts her mouth on me, well…they are so different than anything I've ever known._

She thought of the cacophony and non-stop hollering and generalized chaos that was on-going in her house at all times. She was a product of a large, overly involved, dare she say it…_"ethnic" _family. There simply were no quiet moments. Ever.

Even relationships on any level were large and loud and overly demonstrative.

And so, the fact that she and Rachel had these…_moments_…for lack of a better word, meant something to her. The times the Rachel would come and seek out Santana, and meld into her spot…these times that passed between them at least three or four occasions a day, at least, were something that she had grown to crave. To depend on.

And it wasn't always about the _sex._ She could nurse Rachel, actually, until both breasts were fully drained, and not have sex. In fact, more often than not, they didn't have sex during these times.

But what Santana wasn't prepared to examine if she were to be honest with herself, was the fact she _**couldn't**_ have sex with Rachel and NOT nurse her afterwards. It was impossible. It had become as much an integral part of their sex life as, well, their _orgasms._

Because if Santana were to admit that, it would be admitting she thirsted for…

_**Intimacy.**_

With another human being.

Intimacy. Intimacy-with Rachel Berry, to name a _specific_ human being.

And because she couldn't admit that basic fundamental fact – the fact it was about the_** intimacy**_ and the attachment – and not about the rush she felt when Rachel's skilled mouth would tug—hard- and seal in a latch around her nipple and areola… the physical _high_ she would get from feeling her milk let down into her full breasts while Rachel sucked forcefully in waves…the sounds Rachel would make when San finally let down, and her milk emptied into the Diva's waiting mouth—well, if it was _**not**_ about that amazing physical sensation, _what could it be about?_

'Cause that's why she was doing it, right? 'Cause that 'let down' made her pussy tingle, then burn, and throb with wetness , dripping, until Rachel entered her at some point… _right_?

Right?

Wrong. If Santana were _honest _with herself , she would actually admit the real moments that made her heart jump. She would remember the moments, in her hazy thrill, when she would look down and see those loving brown eyes gaze up at her, so trusting; Rachel's eyes were indeed a window to her soul as she did her due diligence…her mouth silent, excepting the rhythmic ministrations of her lips against Santana's own breast as she worked the milk down. The quiet trust, and love, and understanding, that passed between them, in their own secret world. Twenty minutes here, twenty minutes there … it added up, to a lot of hours that Rachel was latched on to Santana. And Santana had become the result of supply and demand principles – her breasts had become full and pendulous, absolutely_** full**_ of milk, ready for Rachel to empty her at any given moment. She loved that feeling, of being engorged, so able to provide. To feed Rachel. To watch the delight in Rachel's eyes and she swallowed and drank her, draining her so completely dry, and continuing to suck, to beg her to make more. It was like a drug…but not for the reasons Santana kept telling herself.

And Santana was sure she had never given this to another soul. This intimacy. And she would never tell anyone, oh HELL to the no, that she was engaged in an…adult nursing relationship, for god's sakes.

Adult. Nursing. Relationship. With Rachel Berry.

The person with whom she was..intimate.

_Rachel._

So, if she were to admit that, all of that, well… she would then be able to admit the fact it would absolutely KILL her to think someone else had done something so …_intimate_…like this…with _her_. Before Santana.

It would just kill her.

(That is, if Santana Lopez were to ever admit something like that to herself.)

XOXO

The morning sun was peeking through the window and Santana groaned with pleasure.

She had already had her first round of sex, having back to back organisms wherein Rachel simultaneously sucked her nipples hard, nursing with a frenzied determination as she plunged three fingers into Santana's core, with a vibrating cock ring at the base of her fingers. Its fluttering hum would deliciously graze across Santana's clit with every deep thrust of Rachel's hand. The sensations all at once were too much, and she felt her second orgasm wash across her core as she just registered the first. And as she spasmed with three aftershocks, she smiled at Rachel, completely spent.

Rachel, however, did not seem done, and continued being frisky, nipping at Santana's clit with her mouth.

"God, DOWN! Down, Tonto! You need to put me in the oven, 'cause I am DONE." Santana laughed, as she reached down to wipe away the creamy milk that was dribbling from the corner of Rachel's mouth from earlier.

_That is so fuckin' hot_, mused Santana.

"Are you actually saying "NO?" The great Santana Lopez is admitting …defeat?"

There was a too long pause.

"Never!" Said Santana finally, as she rolled Rachel over and dug in on top of the surprised smaller female. She pinned down the tiny brunette , and rutted her hips inward.

_Years of Sue Sylvester's torture, short stack. Ha!_

Santana then grabbed Rachel's arms, pinning them above her head while she leaned her weight forward, positioning her hands into a vice grip that was inescapable. .

"I merely am using this short-lived breather to finally encourage you to find your, how shall we call it…your "inner voice." Find your inner voice, Rachel. I'm all ears."

Rachel realized that she wasn't going to be able to escape and evade this time. The truth was going to come out.

She sighed.

"Well, they always say, the truth will set you free." Said Rachel, sounding rather unhappy.

"It doesn't really matter WHAT they say about it, because you're _dishin' _it. I'm listening. You're talking. That's how this is going down. Now…GO."

_Because there is nothing that could compete with what I've conjured up in my mind,_ she reasoned. _Its time, I need to get this out in the open, because its killing me slowly, this not knowing…_

Rachel took a deep breath, and began recounting a chapter in her life she spent so much time trying to forget.

"Well, Santana…_fine."_ Rachel exhaled. "There's… no good way to tell this, other than to just start. I've wanted to tell you…honest. But then thing escalated between you and I so quickly, and then I just couldn't...there was never an appropriate…well. y'know- I didn't want to creep you out. So, here we are." Rachel paused.

Santana's head nearly exploded with the impressive dearth of correct syntax employed by the usually articulate diva, in her rambling attempt at an explanation.

Rachel finally met Santana's determined gazed, and started quietly. "It happened this time last year, almost a year to the very day, exactly…"

XOXO

_**One Year Earlier…**_

"RACHEL. _Hurry the hell UP_! We're going to be late!"

"Late? Why are you so freaking out? Again, Quinn, this is making me really nervous."

"No SHIT, Sherlock. Pretty much anything that involves the instructions_ 'don't tell your parents or the school or any law office or else you'll never see Beth again' _is more than likely a sketchy proposition…**duh**."

"Then why are we here, if we both think its such a bad idea?"

"We've been through this, Berry. Because, in my post-partum haste, I made a bad, bad choice. I gave my daughter away to someone who thinks its okay to use parenthood like a weapon, and wield it against…_anyone_, really. But especially me."

"Still waiting."

Quinn spun around, frustrated. She grabbed Rachel's shoulders dead on and stared into her eyes.

"Rachel. I HATE that I have to ask you to do this. I HATE that _I'm _doing this. But if there is any way –ANY- that I can see …Beth…"

With that, Quinn's usually sure voice cracked, and Rachel looked up in time to see the tears welling up in her eyes. She set her jaw firmly.

"Quinn, you shouldn't have to do this. You shouldn't – and you shouldn't be put in such a double bind."

"I know. But … what other choice is there?"

"I just don't understand why she thought you – and I – well, why you would be able to convince me to do something that seems like its going to be …well…" Rachel's voice trailed off, thoughtfully.

Quinn sighed.

"I've thought a lot about that." They had almost reached the dark house in which Shelby Corcoran lived. Quinn continued, "you see, I think that …Shelby …well, she frankly…she _overestimated _me, and she really underestimated.. you."

Rachel looked at Quinn, puzzled.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, hobbit?" Said Quinn, deliberately incanting her former cruel moniker for Rachel. She continued, despite the indignant squeak that came from Rachel. "She thinks I'm some powerful person who can pressure you into doing whatever I want. You know, I'm back to being the HBIC and all. And she thinks you're so …pliant, that…"

"…that I'd do whatever you pressured me into doing?" Finished Rachel, indignantly.

"Right. But she's wrong, _so wrong_, Rachel. She may get the result she wanted, but not for the reason she thinks. Its actually the other way around. I…I'm nobody, Rachel. I'm nobody without this fucking cheerio costume. No one would listen to me without it…_no one_ did."

A moment passed, while Quinn collected herself.

"But you…you, Rachel, are the strong one. You don't need a uniform to hide behind. You're…YOU. And you're beautiful. And you're strong. And you're doing this for me, because you know I NEED it. I need you to do this, to help me, and you're strong enough to turn the other cheek and help me."

Rachel nodded, resolutely.

"In spite of the fact, I should add, that I was an utter _biyatch_ to you in school."

"Quinn, I knew that wasn't you…not really."

"You overestimate me, just like our host."

"No, I don't. I knew there was more to Quinn Fabray than anyone gave you credit for…and honestly, I really just wanted you and Santana and Brittany to …admit I was someone. For my talent. And maybe someday, to –y'know, maybe…like me?"

Quinn smiled sadly. "Why do you even care, Rachel? You'll be some famous Broadway star, someday, and we'll be alcoholics by the time we're thirty. Well…maybe not Brit."

Rachel pushed Quinn in the shoulder. "Well, I just wanted you to admit that. ALL OF THAT." She laughed.

Quinn laughed back. "Besides, Rachel, you know Brit always liked you. It drove San and I crazy. She always saw the good in you, in people in general, really. And while I now have but put in an unfortunate situation in which I have an opportunity, um, to be forced to admit who you are…I wouldn't hold my breath for Santana."

"Really?"

"_Really_. Santana would push her _mothe_r into traffic if she thought it would get her to the top of the pyramid. She has ice in her veins, that one."

"I don't know, I think you're wrong about her, Quinn."

"Berry, you don't know her like I do…and you never will. She NEVER puts herself in a spot to need someone. _ Ever_. Not like me. And now, I'm in hella spot..a horrific spot…all because I was a STUPID sixteen year old, and I signed my rights away. I have NO RIGHTS to this child, and the only way I can see her is based on the whim of a _crazy bitch_- ah, _um_," paused Quinn. "I'm sorry, Rachel, I know she's your mother-

Rachel cut her off. "She is NOT my mother. She was my parents' surrogate. Very different." She said briskly.

They paused as they realized they had arrived at the front stoop of Chez Corcoran.

Quinn sighed. "Good. I'm glad you feel that way. Because I have a feeling that Shelby has something in mind that isn't exactly…maternal."

The door, as if on cue, creaked open.

The tall, commanding woman- striking in her beauty- gazed down at the two younger women. She narrowed her eyes.

"Welcome. You're late."

Without a sound, she turned around, and walked away. Door ajar, she left the girls to wonder if they were supposed to follow her inside.

They looked at each other, and without a word, followed silently behind the quickly disappearing figure of Shelby Corcoran.

**XOXO**

TBC! Review at will.


	11. Chapter 11

So...the old chapter 11 is gone and has been beta'ed. Behold chapter 11 is now chapter 12! Thanks for the constructive criticism and the feedback. We reviewed the story arc and decided to redirect the faberry and get on with the pezberry lovin' ... And I appreciate the edits that I totally missed or left hanging as well as outline help...

thanks for the thankless job to my beta A4-3.0!


	12. Chapter 12

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation

**Warning: This chapter gets incesty. **

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Chapter 12. The Prequel , part tempest.**

What would become their own little private, but odd, ritual began in earnest.

Rachel began slowly. "As it turns out, Shelby was quite serious about her intentions…"

Rachel stopped, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I did…well, I can't believe this actually happened. I mean…_I was there_, technically, but it was so…surreal."

"**Enough** with the preamble, Legs. Let's get to it. What the fuck happened?"

Santana could fell the inexorable tingling of … dread? No…not just dread…_fear. _She could feel it oozing slowly into her heart, threatening to squeeze it so tightly it would stop beating.

_Stop…stop_! Santana silently commanded herself.

Rachel cleared her throat. It was time to pay the piper.

"Shelby had decided only real breast milk would do for her baby. Formula just wasn't good enough. Unfortunately, she wanted to be the one who would ultimately feed her. And in order to do that, without having actually given birth, she would need to induce her own lactation. Until such time as she established her own bountiful supply, however, she felt…um, Beth's birth mother should only rightfully be willing to pitch in and contribute a "reasonable supply" of frozen breast milk …"

"That being Quinn,"snorted Santana.

"Yes, that being Quinn." Sighed Rachel. "Shelby initially took Beth's birth-er, Quinn's, milk..and would feed Beth through a breast apparatus feeding device, so Beth would bond with Shelby. Sometimes I watched that. It was kind of…nice, actually."

Rachel set her jaw grimly.

"When she first proposed this, of course, we freaked out…but I…we…we did everything she…we…oh, Santana, God! I watched. Quinn would get sucked, then…um, well…she would get unceremoniously _fisted _by Shelby, watching me.. watch _her._ Then when she was sated, Shelby would dismiss her to the corner…"

Rachel's voice shook noticeably as she was remembering the initial details of how Shelby calmly and meticulously spelled out for the girls their duties over the next days, in order for Quinn to see Beth. Increasing demands on Quinn's body, and longer and longer times for Rachel to dutifully nurse Shelby… parallel looks of horror that washed over their faces, and their ultimate resolution as they would set about to grimly complete their tasks. Rachel shuddered, as she silently rembered when the two tasks eventually started to occur in parallel, and there was no place for her to discreetly avert her eyes, while her biological mother ravished the blonde literally _next to her_, with progressive brute force and intensity.

There was no way to block out the increasingly obscene noises coming out of Quinn's mouth, and her desperate pleadings for Shelby to finish her…

Rachel's eyes snapped into focus when she felt a set of arms gently wrapping themselves around her. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding when she heard Santana's calm voice talking softly.

"Ay dios mio! You have been to Crazy Town, and back, Rach! Holy shit. Listen … you _don't_ have to talk about this to me…if you're not ready. But…I'm going to insist that you talk to _somebody_…soon. You need to, sweet girl. This is _**all kinds**_ of fucked up."

Rachel smiled wanly and kissed her lady on the lips, softly.

"No, San, really. I've…_processed._ Sort of. Let me finish, I've told you this much. Let's see…I was telling you about ..hmm. Quinn's initial reaction when Shelby first proposed her little…deal. What happened next was pretty much what you'd expect from our reformed HBIC."

XOXO

"You are fucking nuts, Shelby!"

Shelby looked at Quinn, and laughed, mirthlessly.

It was as though that hollow laugh cracked Quinn from the inside…

"But I'm _**weaned,**_ Shelby! That's impossible!" Said Quinn, seething.

"Oh my dear, never say _never_, especially to me." With a startling quickness, she had crossed the room, and forced Quinn's shirt up. She deftly unhooked Quinn bra simultaneously and it dropped to her feet.

Quinn turned scarlet.

Shelby meaningfully looked in her eyes, challenging, as she massaged one breast roughly.

"Ouch!"

"_Shut up_." Shelby kept kneading, rubbing… _knotting_ Quinn's breast methodically, until the nipple rose to a hard point, and finally, three white beads expressed at the tip of her nipple. "Ah! _**Yessss**_**.** See there, darling? And all it takes is just a little… how shall we say…_suggestion_."

Shelby swooped down, attached her mouth to Quinn's nipple, and …sucked.

Quinn's face recoiled in horror, but she didn't push the woman away.

Shelby abruptly stopped. "Open your mouth, Quinn."

Rachel emerged from her tramatized stupor. "Why? _What are you going to do to her_?" She blurted.

Shelby grazed a silencing look barely in her direction. Without missing a beat, the taller brunette turned her razor focus immediately back to Quinn. "Do you want to see the child you carefully grew inside of you for nearly a year of your young life, my dear? The_ perfect_ baby that you labored so hard to grow, and then pushed out of your body, Quinn?"

The blonde was sheet white.

"_Well_, then. **Open your mouth**."

Quinn nervously did so.

Shelby popped a white pill in her mouth. "Swallow." She commanded.

Quinn did. Shelby grinned, and she pushed Quinn back onto the bed, stripping her clothes off her until she was completely naked. As Shelby reclined the young cheerleader backwards, she watched her closely. Quinn's eyes grew almost heavy, and she had a sleepy grin on her face. Shelby nodded, and placed her lips back on Quinn's breasts and sucked, and sucked, and _sucked._

"What are you – what, Shelby, you can't be …" Rachel choked out, disbelieving.

Quinn's eyes were rolling to the back of her head, then closed, blissfully. She was murmering incoherently. Rachel gasped quietly, while Quinn threaded her fingers through Shelby's hair, gripping her into place on her breast. Holding her…to _nurse._

Rachel watched in horror.

"_**Ohhh**_, God…Shelby, don't stop. That's_ soooo_ good, oh fuck!"

Quinn gasped, as the only sound in the room were the loud machinations of Shelby's mouth, as it roughly savaged Quinn's breasts.

" Oh my God…_suck my tits._ **Please suck me.** _Please_. Please don't …**don't** stop _sucking _me…"

Shelby glanced upward, surveying Quinn…then Rachel. Her gaze stayed on the smaller girl, hard and penetrating. Rachel shrunk against the wall, feeling as though she might pass out.

Shelby popped her lips off Quinn's nipple.

"Spread your legs, now, Quinn."

Quinn did so, immediately.

Placing her mouth back on the blonde's reddened nipple, Shelby reached over to the nightstand and grabbed what appeared to be a bottle of lube.

She dabbed it generously on her hand, still sucking, and poised herself at Quinn's opening.

"Wait! _Shelby!_ What are… **what** do you _think_ you are going…"

Rachel's voice seemed _so far away_ to Quinn.

The diva watched with horror as Shelby entered Quinn, with four fingers, without preamble. She seemed more interested in stretching her opening more than the actual act of _entering_ her.

Rachel felt a light film of sweat form on her forehead while she watched Quinn buck, and writhe, with each of Shelby's aggressive thrusts.

The lack of foreplay didn't matter to Quinn, however. She came, within minutes, regardless. Shelby pulled out of Quinn, with one quick, efficient movement.

Once Quinn's erratic breathing finally settled, Shelby spoke calmly.

"Now that I have your attention, ladies, here's how its going to go down..."

Shelby was nothing if not thorough. She had been planning this… for _awhile_, as it turned out. She had a huge illegal stash of Domperidone™ to "re-lactate," and her plan, as she laid it out, fell into place as methodically as a well planed military assault.

The Domperidone™ would be given to both Shelby and Quinn on a regular basis. Shelby would encourage Quinn to re-lactate, (under no circumstances would she be allowed to nurse Beth directly) until such time as Quinn could mechanically pump a healthy frozen stock for Shelby's deep freezer. In parallel, it would seem, Rachel would have the honor of inducing _Shelby._

"Poetic, really. I finally get to nurse my daughter." Mused Shelby, in a rare sidetracking moment.

There would be sex, of course, but not for the purpose of pleasuring each other. It was merely to trick the efferent stretch receptors in the vagina into "believing" there was a need for the physiologic process of oxytocin letdown to occur.

Apparently, the _wider_ the hole became, the better… to simulate childbirth. That would in turn trick the brain into thinking milk needed to be produced..and of course, the mechanical sucking on the nipples didn't hurt, either. The harder, and more frequent, _the better._

Shelby anticipated that Quinn would be more successful re-lactating than Shelby would be as a first time milking mother. For the anticipated times when she was simply pumping and no longer needed to be stimulated to do so, she was to watch Rachel nurse Shelby, while she expressed and banked her milk for Beth in the deep freezer.

Rachel was fighting tears and the urge to run screaming out of the house, until she heard Shelby remark, "Once I have at least a four week supply banked, dear Quinn Fabray, of _your milk_…then, and only then, may you see Beth for one hour a day during our…_sessions._"

Quinn's stoned face snapped to sobriety once the terms for Beth came into play. She stayed quiet.

"Why, Shelby, _**why**_?"Asked Rachel, in a stiff voice.

Shelby turned her beautiful, yet piercing, gaze on the younger version of herself.

"Don't you see Rachel? It's a win-win. Quinn gets to provide something for her daughter. As a result, she gets to_** see**_ said daughter... and be_ involved_ with her,"

Shelby continued her musing, "and _you and I_, my dear? We get to start again, back from the very beginning …as it were."

Quinn interrupted.

"You didn't need Rachel, here! You didn't have to drag her into this to get what you wanted, Shelby." Quinn remarked, rather coldly.

She arched her eyebrow. "I wouldn't go getting all _opinionated,_ Ms. Fabray. This is not an offer without term limits. Besides," she grinned, "I _**wanted**_ Rachel…to be involved."

Rachel felt a small shiver up her spine.

"Plus, you are each other's **alibis**. All those nights away? Rachel tells her fathers she's at Quinn's house… Quinn tells Judy she's at Rachel's house… it's really quite perfect! And since your respective parents are even _more _worthless than Child Protective Services in Ohio, no one will be the wiser, I suspect."

"You've no _right_…!" burst out Rachel.

"_**Really?" **_Shelby cut her off, sharply. "No right? _Really?_ _How_ many times have your fathers traveled for business, Rachel… in the last quarter _alone_? Is it _really_ appropriate for a 16 year old to be **alone** as much as you are? _Really?_ "

The room was silent.

Shelby continued bitterly. "Leroy and Hiram, they betrayed me… my _trust._ They were supposed to_ parent_ you. _Protect_ you. _Guide_ you. LOOK at you…you're nothing short of an emancipated minor."

Rachel whimpered.

"And _**you**_**,** Ms. Fabray. Don't even get me started.."Shelby said, turning quickly on the stony blonde.

Shelby rose to her full and intimidating height. "Well, I think you've got your hands full mothering your_ own_ mother over there at Fabray Manor. I dare say she wouldn't notice if you were _alive_ or _dead._"

Despite Quinn's emotionless face, a solitary tear belied her true emotions.

" And where is your father in all of this?" bellowed Shelby, her volume beginning to escalate. "_Working_—hah! Is _that_ what he calls it?"

The girls were doing their best to look stoic, but Shelby had hit them a little too close to the truth. She stopped her soliloquy abruptly.

"Once everything is up and running, well, your _services_ will no longer be needed. However, if you complete your requirements in full,_ both_ of you, then Quinn- you will get two afternoons a week with Beth going forward, as well as your birthday, and a holiday of your choice."

Quinn was silent.

"_Quinn_?" Rachel murmured, quietly.

What came next would shock both of the brunettes in the room.

"**No**, Shelby. _No_. I'm _**not**_going to ask Rachel to do this-"

Apparently, Quinn did not have the monopoly on shock for the day, as Rachel cut her off, loudly.

"**NO**!"

Both sets of eyes turned to Rachel, startled.

"Quinn, you…you don't have a _choice,_ Quinn." Rachel was breathing quickly. "_And secondly_, well, it's also _MY choice_, too, Quinn Fabry! And I say…yes. YES. You have to do this. I have to do this. And I'm in, if _you're_ in, Quinn. I'm IN."

"You sound like a Dr. Seuss book, the two of you."

Quinn shot a warning look to Rachel, which was met in kind with a resolute, brown eyed stare.

Quinn returned her gaze forward, and gave cold regard towards the taller woman.

"Fine. _ Fine_, then. We'll do it, Shelby. Fine. When do we start?"

Shelby laughed.

"You already have." She said, with a wicked grin.

Quinn felt a singularly new feeling creep down her spine…a nervous tingle of …._anticipation._

**XOXOXO**

TBC. Reviews = Love.


	13. Chapter 13

**Fill for the glee kink meme: Santana/Rachel breastfeeding**(Anonymous)2012-03-27 09:24 am (UTC)Santana meets Rachel again after she had been a surrogate mother (like Shelby), so she has the milk but no baby. Rachel wants to help. No infantilism or mommy!kink

_**Title: She's a Giver…**_

**Author: Ladyfun9**

Characters: Santana Rachel (ship Pezberry!)

Rating: M, NC-17

Kinks: !Lactation sans infants, diapers, or mommy…just good old-fashioned erotic lactation

**Warning: This chapter gets incesty. **

**Perfunctory Disclaimer:** I don't own glee, not one damn bit of it.

XOXO

**Chapter 13. The Prequel , part teapot**

"So…" Began Rachel.

"So." Concluded Santana.

She sat, with her head propped up on one hand, staring directly at the smaller brunette. Her dark eyes flashed.

"So."

"We've established that. Get on with the weird."

"It actually wasn't….wasn't, _um_, so weird."

"Fuck ME in a handbasket, Rachel. You breastfeeding your mom as an adult? WEIRD."

Rachel blanched.

"After awhile, it didn't_ seem_ so weird, Santana. In fact, I got used to our little...ritual."

"Ritual? Blane licking his dopey jeri curl out straight for luck before he walks under a bridge, _that's_ a ritual. Sucking another woman's breasts for the purpose of expressing milk? Well, that's not a ritual, Rachel. That's a fetish."

_**Now**_ Rachel was angry.

"I seem to recall certain hypocrites in this room that rather enjoy that activity, Santana."

Santana leveled an even look.

"I never said I was _above _a fetish, Rach-el. Now, get on with your fetish discussion."

Santana grinned in a teasing manner.

**XOXOXO**

"Okay, that's good, Rachel. Pop off now."

Rachel pulled her lips, unwillingly off of Shelby. Small white milk remnants trickled down the sides of her mouth. She enjoyed this closeness with her mother…even if she was totally being used.

"Quinn." Spoke Shelby, harshly. "Come here."

Quinn dutifully obliged while Shelby fisted her hand, corkscrewing her entire hand, into Quinn's opening.

"God damn, so fucking tight…."

Shelby's eyes were lidded as she wedged into Quinn, harshly. "Mmmm, Quinn, I'm going to stretch you tonight. I'm going to make you so full… No one will ever be able to have your loose pussy again. _MMMMMmmmmah….thats all for me, isn't it"_

It was hard to discern who was enjoying it more.

As Quinn lost all control, and arched her back off the bed with Shelby's last violent twist, she screamed her name out, begging Shelby to fuck her – harder. Longer. Deeper. Faster….who knew….just anywhere. Anywhere she could get insider of her…

And in the quiet ever after, Shelby stoked Quinn's hair.

"Quinnie, how are you coming on that Yale application?"

Quinn sighed, her resolve gone. "Shelby, I told you before, I'm not going to get in."

"Yes you will," murmured Shelby. "Bring your essay round, tomorrow, let's take a look at it and decide what needs buffing up."

_Shelby was so full of ... contradictions._ Mused Rachel. _One minute breaking Quinn down, the next, building her back up. Why?_

One day, later that month, Rachel spoke to Shelby with a soft voice that belied her resolve. Quinn had stepped out to "go to the ladies room," which was code, Rachel knew, for rinsing her mouth, trimming her lady parts, and grooming herself in general for Shelby's probing gaze. Quinn had many talents, but her attention to detail was one that was always...appreciated...by Shelby.

"Shelby...what's your, hmm. How do I say this? What's your..._endgame?"_

"Endgame?" She looked amused.

"Yes. Endgame. With Quinn."

"I don't think I understand your meaning, Rachel."

Rachel huffed.

"Your intentions, Shelby. What are your intentions?"

She cocked her eyebrow. "Why, Rachel," She drawled in a southern accent. "Are you askin' me if my intentions are ... _honorable?"_

She batted her eyebrows.

Rachel, in response, rolled her eyes.

The genetics were undeniable.

Finally, Rachel took a deep breath and continued. This had been nagging at her for weeks, and watching Quinn and her Stockholmish like obsession for Shelby grow, she felt she had to say something.

"Look," Rachel continued, lowering her voice. "You've always held the cards, here, I _get_ it. But I hope you've come to realize that Quinn has come to ... appreciate you. God only knows why. I can certainly envision healthier relationships, but I don't control her. And frankly, she barely controls herself, it seems."

Shelby looked at Rachel, stone faced.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Shirley, you realize, you are of a ..um. 'Certain age.' And shirley you realize the power you hold here - well, of course you do. That's how you've gotten what you wanted. Quinn is young. And impressionable. And vunerable. Shirely you realize you have the capacity to break her."

Shelby remained silent. Rachel could feel the frustration welling up inside her. She had made a passionate plea, garnered the courage to say the difficult thing that needed to be said, and it was ennervating to be met with NO response.

After a long moment, Shelby spoke.

"Stop calling me Shirley."

Rachel huffed. "That's it, Shelby. Fine. Forget it! And you know what, forget you. At least, before, I had the unknown. I didn't have to think that my mother was that cold, to just ... take money to be an incubator. To have NO feeling for something that grew inside her. But I now unfortunately know you for who you are. It's gross. I'm done with this."

Rachel stomped off, grabbing her coat from the nearby chair. As she stormed off, she nearly faceplanted into Quinn.

It took Quinn less than three seconds to clue-in to what was happening. She grabbed Rachel by the arm in a vice grip, and hissed in her ear.

"Where are you going, Rachel?"

"I'm leaving. I'm done here, done with Dr. Strangelove."

Quinn spoke with a quiet fury, in a voice only Rachel could hear. "You can't DO that, Rachel. She'll...she'll _drop_ me."

"No, she won't, Quinn."

"Yes, she will. She wants _you_, Rachel."

Rachel snorted.

"Last time I checked, Quinn, _your_ ladyparts were the ones she was all 'up-in', to quote Santana."

"Rachel, look, I need you. We've come so far...I can't..."

Rachel looked at Quinn evenly. "You'll have to find your own way, Quinn. I can't be a part of this. It's disgusting, and it makes ME feel disgusting."

Rachel turned to face Shelby as she said the last part of her statement.

"It makes ME feel disgusting to crave that closeness with someone ...I wanted desperately to be my mother. But you know what, Shelby? You'll never be my mother. That is a title that is EARNED. You? You're nothing more than a... cabron. A cheap whore."

Rachel felt a slap across her face, and the sound of the action made it feel ten times worse. Rachel looked up, shocked.

"Quinn, that's the last time you slap me. We're done here."

Rachel executed the most perfect diva storm out of her young career.

XOXOXO

"...and that's the last time I spoke to Shelby." She finished, looking at Santana. "Frankly, I _barely_ spoke to Quinn, this year, despite our forging a friendship of sorts. Only odd comments, now and again. I barely saw her this year. And then, out of nowhere, that lecture at the party...about not hurting you. Truly..._odd._"

Santana was uncharacteristically quiet.

"You know what 'cabron' means, in Spanish, right Rach?"

"I do. I actually picked it up from you when you called Quinn that in your epic hallway battle during her pregnancy."

"Well. You know who actually became a "whore for hire", or whatever you called it?"

"Tana..." Rachel said, softly, as she scooped up the girl in her arms.

She hugged the prickly cheerleader for all she was worth. _And really,_ thought Santana, _is there anything as epic-ly curative as a Berry-hug?_

"YOU, dear Santana, are the MOST loyal person I have ever met. The people that are lucky enough to know you, to get in your 'inner circle', are people who never get left behind. You are the anti-Shelby."

Santana let the hug wash over her, and squeeze out the last of her insecurities.

"I thought I was done with that, but you know...I missed it. I missed feeling that closeness with another person. And then, you, a bathroom stall, and the rest was history."

Rachel grinned.

"I just had no idea you'd be so squishy-soft, though, Santana! I truely thought I would be dodging a switchblade from time to time. But you know? You're kind. And sensual. And...loving. And I love being with you, Santana. I really love sharing this with...you."

Rachel's candid admission had them both blushing like crazy. Her gaze dropped slightly lower, to Santana's hardening nipples pressing through her shirt.

Then, Santana jolted up, remembering something.

"Wait, Berry!"

"_Coitus interruptus,_ Lopez!"

"Yeah, well, _wojoitus_ to you too. Well! You heard what happened yesterday, right?"

"No...I was actually keeping a low profile. I thought you were mad at me...I sort of checked out of school early, thinking about how to approach this conversation."

"Well...then, you missed it, of course! So, our little crackpot HBIC?"

"What?" Said Rachel, mildly annoyed. She was not good at delayed gratification.

"Our HBIC is the newest Yalie..."

"That's _old_ news, Santana." Rachel said, clearly peeved. "I KNOW Quinn got into Yale. Do you not remember I was there when you insulted Quinn with the 'community college at New Haven' comment?"

"You didn't let me _finish_, Sweet Pea. Our little HBIC is the newest Yalie who will be inducted into "The New Blue", the oldest female acapella group." Her eyes flashed. Rachel looked confused. "What makes this story interesting is not her miracoulous inclusion, given her only singing asset is her face and not anything that gets produced from her mouth...no. What makes it interesting, is..."

Santana grinned the cheshire gato grin that she had perfected long ago. "...that Beth Quinn Fabray was handpicked - _handpicked!_ - by The Singing Council's newly appointed director of the group: the famous and winningist female show-choir director in the past decade...one _Ms. Shelby Corcoran."__  
><em>

Rachel was, perhaps, for the first time _ever_...

...completely mute.

XOXOXOX

Reviews inspire.

Reviews...desired.

This Review's on fire. (No wait, that's Santana!)


	14. Chapter 14: Epilogue of Sorts

**EPILOGUE**** (of Sorts)**

**Same fair balance still applies. Still don't own any of this merda... Rating M, etc.**

_In the future, Far, far away..._

"Oh my God. SHUT UP! All of you insaneiacs! Shut - the - hell- up!"

Santana was futilely trying to get the living zombie-esque creatures in her living room to _shut*the*hell*up_ while she listened to the commentators for THE football game.

_Yale v. Harvard._

It had become quite the tradition in their house for the past decade, Quinn would pack up her three towheaded children and grumpy spouse and head over to the Lopez-Berry household and tailgate (indoors, in the living room, with Santana...so, not really tailgating so much as just outright _drinking_) while they both got drunk cheering on their respective alma maters, as they trash talked the other. At some point, Santana's overly shy twins would peek around the corner under the auspices of "finding out who was winning" but generally to scope out Quinn's gorgeous daughters.

"Can we go next door, and play with Ms. Brittany's dogs?" The clearly bored blondes of varying heights begged their mom, head buried in the Bleacher Report.

"No, babies. She has a guard cat that oversees the dogs, whom I'm reasonably sure has made an unnatural deal with the devil to stay alive-and is, in fact, undead."

"_Lord Tubbington_?"Gasped the youngest.

"Shhhh!" Said Quinn's wife, coming around the corner with a bowl of "tailgating" snacks. "..don't say that name three times out loud! It makes him more powerful!"

"Mo**_-ther_**,"huffed the middle girl. "You're making that up."

The woman gasped, echoed by a smaller gasp that came around the corner,with the latter in the form of Santana's wife, Rachel.

"Suit yourself" the two women said simultaneously, casting steely glares at each other.

"Jinx, 1 through 10, you owe me a coke!"

A dramatic gasp issued. "The jinx machine is out of order, pinch, poke, you owe me a quarter!"

Three more iterations of jinxing, and rainbox jinxing, and then a hex jinx, and the two women were laughing hysterically like three-year-old children.

There was no humor in either the hazel set or brown set of eyes casting unmistakably implied death threats back at them.

"_Godtothedamn!_ Shelby, Rachel, _dios a la maldita,_ shut the hell up! I am trying to listen to this offsides bullcrap!"

"You're in trouble!"Sang Shelby, to her smaller replica. "She's talking Spanish at you."

"It would appear that way."

"She's just pissy because the Crimson Tide are losing." Whispered Quinn, conspiratorially.

Santana slapped a pillow. "FUCK ME WITH A SQUID! What the fuck, Quinn, it is THE CRIMSON, you stupid jack ass!"

A twin spoke. "Mommy said a bad word!"

The other replied, "Mommy said A LOT of bad words!"

Santana took a swig of her beer. "And Mommy's _going to say a LOT more bad words_ if people around here don't **shut the hell** up!"

Quinn and Shelby's eldest, Beth, finally grabbed her backpack and threw it over her sholder, taking advantage of the cachophony. She offered quietly, "Um...I am going to Aunt Brittany's."

"What?" Said Quinn, echoed by Santana.

"Well, lladies who are supposed to be adults on the couch...As you are aware, I make clear every year around this time that firstly, football bores the hell out of me; secondly, I don't need to watch Mom and Aunt Santana fist fight again this year; and finally, I actually _like _Lord Tubbington, and I'm taking him his annual Yale-Harvard catnip."

As she headed out the door, Shelby called after her, "Don't let that cat sell any of your paired organs!"

Beth rolled her eyes with a dramatic flourish and trounced out the door.

XOXO

Rachel and Shelby had retreated to the kitchen as Quinn and Santana's voices were beginning to get progressively louder with each passing quarter.

"Are they drunker, or just louder?" Mused Rachel.

"Both."

"Ah. So they are."

Shelby said gently, after a beat, "Rachel, how much longer are you going to do this role? Seven days a week and two matinees is going to take its toll, soon. You know, you're starting to show."

"_Whoa!_ Non sequitur, much? But yes," Rachel sighed. "I'm aware...you don't have to tell me about it. But I have an understudy straight out of "All About Eve." Swear to God, she's thinking about how to push me down a flight of stairs. I'm sure I'll be done soon, if she has her way."

Shelby tsk'ed. "She's just pissed you've dominated that role for two years. She better be careful what she wishes! Really, who would want to follow YOU after you leave? You dominated that part!"

"Aww, shucks, ma'am. Twarnt nothing."

"Rachel, I hope you'll think about it. Getting overexhaused is not going to help you – or your baby."

The words were ere getting louder in the living room. Santana was reduced to insulting Quinn in Spanish.

"Oh dear. I hear the Spanish epithets. Well, that means we're done here, Shelby - should we go break it up, of just call 911 now, as a prophylactic?"

Shelby smiled knowingly. "Remind me why we married lawyers? They argue about EVERYTHING."

"Well, frankly, Santana ALWAYS argued everything. She just built a profession around what she was good at. You got Quinn when she was straight outta Bring it On not the Law Review, so hey...I don't think we could have predicted."

Shelby had a far-off look.

"Bea," nudged Rachel gently. "you ever gonna tell me what she said to you, that day? The day when she came over to your house senior year?"

Shelby smiled wanly.

"It's the mystery of the ages, Bea. Quinn and I are _dying_ to know."

"Hmm? Not a chance. But look- it got us here, didn't it? I finally got sense knocked in my head and married the woman I loved... and, look at us. You and I, Rachel. Who would have thought?"

Rachel chuckled as she leaned in to give Shelby a hug.

"Not me, that's for damn sure. I still say you're a shitty mom...to me. But you ended up being a really great friend."

"Well that lady of yours gives people no other choice but to shape up, that's for sure."

"I'm aware. Why do you think she's New York's youngest DA?"

Shelby nodded.

"She is a live one, Rachel. It makes me wonder something, myself...how'd you ever tame the beast?"

Rachel smiled her magazine cover smile.

"Well, for one, I'm _gifted_. And, two... if you haven't noticed, I'm_ quite_ the catch." She giggled, while Shelby made gagging gestures.

"But... honestly Shelby? It's simple, really. I tamed the beast because of the worlds _oldest_ need- someone to love, and to love you back. I tamed her because, well, .. _I'm a giver."_

**FIN**

thanks for reading! I like the shock value of how did you go from bitchy flowers-in-the-attic-Shelby to this domesticated lady rolling turkey cream cheese pinwheels in the kitchen while the the game is on...

The moral of the story is that anything can happen with enough time and distance. At least, that's what I've heard, and am counting on.

Best,

LF9

"


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